


Horizons

by slothinsocks



Series: Maul’s Infatuation [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dad Darth Maul, F/M, Fluff, Maul kills a bunch of clones, Maulmara, Pregnancy, Rescue, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, Wound tending trope, i love them a lot, obviously diverts from canon a bit, this is a very sweet and desperate fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: Maul races to find Amara at a time of great peril.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Maul’s Infatuation [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893727
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> There is violence against Clones in the beginning and tooth-rotting sweetness throughout. And Dad Maul. Enjoy.

It was only darkness before him — the powerful energies of his containment chamber, the crimson illumination that surrounded him. Even in his greatest concentration and focus, he could not shatter the bonds that restrained him. It was the dream again, the visage of the Republic falling and succumbing to something terrible — someone terrible. His former master, Darth Sidious, was on the cusp of succeeding. He could sense it, knowing that everything would be playing out into the hands of the enemy. No one would listen to him enough to understand the gravity of the situation …

His head seemed to split in two, so suddenly. Maul’s head was filled with images of Anakin Skywalker slaughtering his fellow Jedi, kneeling before his former Master, and vowing to end the Jedi Order and the Republic. It was his dream, coming to life — so visceral and real that he could almost reach out and touch it. 

What horrible, little fools they all were. The Jedi, the Republic — they all deserved what was coming, especially for their ineptitude and blindness. The narrow, dogmatic view of the Jedi would not withstand the testament of time. It would be Darth Maul, Lord Maul — the grand survivor of it all, with everything to fall back upon. If he broke out of this cell, everything else would be simple. 

However, no plan of his would come to fruition if he did not find his beloved first. Amara was his reason for existing, the reason he had so carefully constructed all of these plans … It was to ensure that they had a future to where they weren’t squatting on some forsaken wasteland. Everything that Maul did, he did for Amara Cordessa. No restraints would keep him from finding her, especially now. He was terribly worried, frantic and panicked. If she was hurt … 

Amara was strong, stronger and far more resilient than any woman he’d met. It was why he’d loved her so deeply and unconditionally. The former Senator had captured his heart and mind completely. It terrified him to be apart from her for so long, and especially at such a dire time. Coruscant would be a warzone, and that’s where she was. He was petrified that Sidious might’ve done something with her. She was pregnant with their child, far enough along to make him very concerned. 

Maul’s yellow irises peered out from the small window of his containment cell, muzzled and locked within heavy chromium shackles. He had to think of something — and quickly. If he moved swiftly, it would be easy to strangulate one of the troopers, snap the neck of the other or use the Force. Escaping from the front was his only option, seeing as there was no other exit point. It was in or out, do or die. He needed to be careful to return to Amara.

There was visible confusion upon the Zabrak’s face when Clone troopers began to power down his containment chamber. The massive door creaked and hissed with some resistance as it pushed aside. Maul was staring down the barrels of two blaster rifles, straining with all of his might against the cool metal of his restraints.

Ahsoka Tano, the padawan, was the one to end the lives of her own squadron. How peculiar. He watched her move toward the control panel, releasing him entirely. A bold and dangerous move from her end, considering their duel on Mandalore, but Maul had far more important matters to attend to. He needed to find a shuttle and get to Coruscant as fast as he could. 

“Do not make me regret this.” She sighed, visage contorting into one of concern. “I know that you have someone to get back to,” She hesitated. “And so do I.” Ahsoka understood. Not many knew of Maul’s lover, but those who did often strayed away from ever going near her, for fear of losing a limb or life completely. She could see the twinge of desperation within his gaze. He needed to get back. 

“Care to give me a fighting chance?” Maul growled, gazing down the hallway. He felt defenseless without his lightsaber, but he was exceptionally gifted in the Force. It could become a weapon if he wielded it in such a way, and the Zabrak did have notoriously strong hands. Clones were weak and malleable — he hadn’t a quarrel in wiping out whoever stood in his way. 

“I’m not rooting for you. Cause chaos — it’s what you’re best at, anyway.” Ahsoka quipped, her tone sharp and edged. She wasn’t going to be responsible for him, and she wasn’t going to stick around to see how it all ended. The Sith and the former Jedi parted ways in the hallway, then and there. It would be the last time they ever saw one another. 

Maul’s pace was swift, determined, and purposeful. When he was after something, his demeanor had turned into that of a hunter chasing prey. “Maul has escaped! Blast him!” He heard orders barked from another Clone. As he rounded a long stretch of corridor, he was met with many Clones, all of which began to fire upon him. With a sinister glee, he deflected their blaster fire with a mere wave of his hand, pulling massive panels of metal off of the walls. The Force was raging through him, a tidal wave of brute strength.

He launched the panels forward. They decapitated some Clones and sliced others into two. The lights within the hallway fluctuated, and went dark … It was just Maul’s intense, hungry yellow irises that consumed the darkness. He was nocturnal — spotting blaster fire and approaching Clones seemed to be too easy. Anything that moved, he reached out, making a grasping motion with his hand. Strangulation through the Force. He tossed any lifeless body out of his way, stepping over some corpses in the process.

The more Maul worried about Amara, the more fearsome and zealous his attacks became. They were the product of rage, anger, fear, and desperation. He would not stop until he was out of this vessel, unscathed. Maul’s stamina was endless, and he had no shortage of ways to kill Clones. Anything that approached or scuttled towards him met a very grisly end, one that he wouldn’t have wanted for himself. He stalked toward the troopers, who were screaming for reinforcements, screaming to fall back. Maul was unstoppable — he was invincible. 

Bringing a massive sheet of metal down from the ceiling, he brought his hand down in a swipe, clones being crushed underneath the panel. Maul stepped to the side, entirely unharmed during his rampage through the corridors. Thrusting his hand to one side, he brutally crashed Clones against the walls, making them thrash from side to side until their bodies were still. Their attempts to kill him were both weak and futile. Maul was not the one in need of help — they were. 

“Shoot him! Shoot him!” Yells sounded from the next hallway, darkness and thick smoke clouding his surroundings. It was easy to focus, easy to kill — destruction was embedded within the Zabrak’s nature, even if it hadn’t revealed itself at times. As blaster fire came hurtling towards Maul, he lifted one arm, sending it firing back at the clones at the end of the corridor. There was an explosion that shook the walls, blowing up a small group of Clones in the process.

Maul stepped through the crackling flames, smirking as the Clones began to run away. Ah, just like old times! He had been on his best behavior for his beloved, but this was exhilarating, thrilling — his predatory, primal instincts kicked in so quickly. The Sith shoved aside any rubble with the Force, sparkle flying from broken machinery in the wake of his destruction. Maul glanced to the left and to the right, knowing where the hangar was. That was where they entered through when he was brought aboard to begin with.

Ah, the blast doors. Such excellent timing! The Dathomirian moved with a sudden swiftness, his pace quick and his stance intimidating. The clones were scattered and fleeing, though he saw his opportunity. Reaching out with the Force, Maul began to pull one of the troopers back, the one whose arm held an active commlink. There were screams, yelling, his brothers attempting to pull him back just in time.

The doors snapped shut, and an arm was left upon the metal floors. 

Maul retrieved the commlink, slipping the armored band from the trooper’s dismembered arm to his own. It allowed him to be at an advantage, listen to their movements. “Trooper? Did you seal the doors? Come in, soldier!” A voice crackled through the speaker, though Maul silenced it to give him a more stealthy approach. 

He made his way through winding corridors, most of which were now deathly silent. His ears were trained, however — Maul was alert as ever, and any detection would not go unnoticed. He made a detour instead, scowling when he ran into two Clone Troopers. Before they could even draw their blasters, Maul lifted them into the air, strangulating them both. He approached a large door, flinging it open and launching the slain body at another patrolling trooper. 

Both fell, and the blaster fire began. Maul broke into a sprint, leaping up into the rafters. He brutally tossed Clones from their hovels and perches, not caring enough to see where they’d land. He was quick — Maul moved and jumped like no other Sith could. His prowess and cunning mind were unparalleled. At last, the Zabrak launched himself down on top of a Clone, slamming him into the metal floor. With a crack and thud, the body became still. 

Tearing off the central console, Maul stood amidst the engine room — soaring to high ceilings, there were four massive hyperdrive generators, endless from what he could tell. Extending both hands towards two of the generators, he reached out. It was overflowing with his pain, his rage, hatred — fear. It was raw and blistering, overpowering as electrical crackles formed at each engine. Everything he had worked for, everything he has conquered and fought against … He felt it all in that moment. Every raw emotion came exploding from him in the form of carnage. Maul was tearing it all down. He would destroy them. 

The generators creaked, groaned with restraint — smoke and sparks everywhere. Clones emerged from the opposite side of the bridge, guns drawn. Before any shot could be fired, Maul brought two of the generators crashing down upon them with a thunderous series of explosions. The others shook before his rage, falling down all around him. The smoke, the chaos — Maul lifted his head toward the hectic mess he’d created, fire beginning to break out around him. 

Something sharp felt as if it had struck him within that very moment. Images flashed through his mind — Clones locking Senators into their rooms, some of them being slaughtered, those who sympathized with the Jedi. The Jedi Temple was under siege, with Skywalker leading the charge — fire, smoke, and death. He saw Organa, the one closest to Amara being told to leave after watching a Jedi fall to Clones. 

Amara. She was in pain.

It was difficult to see her, though what he saw made him terrified. Maul felt her, gasping as he clutched at his chest. He nearly doubled over, falling to his knees, which slammed with a mechanical thud. It was as if something had pierced through his heart, a horrible stabbing feeling. It took him a moment to recuperate, hand falling forward against the ground. His blood boiled, and it was fear and desperation that drove him, now. 

He moved quickly— as fast as he could go in such close quarters. Maul broke into a sprint, leaping from one side of the bridge to the next. He needed to find the hangar — steal a vessel, if there was one left. The Zabrak did not encounter much resistance along the way, moving rubble and fallen debris aside. He listened this time, squinting when he heard more commotion toward the left-leaning path. Maul was known for his endless endurance and stamina, and he sprinted down hallways until he finally reached the hangar door. 

His eyes landed upon a sizable vessel across the way — a ship of decent build, though inconspicuous enough not to draw attention. It was exactly what Maul needed to navigate his way through Coruscant. The Clones and the Padawan were at-odds with one another across the way, and Maul couldn’t have cared less. He needed to reach his beloved before anything happened to her. 

With a powerful leap, Maul sprang up into the higher beams, effectively avoiding detection that way. He was light upon his feet like a prowling jungle cat, sneaking swiftly enough to bypass the clone troopers. He cared not for the others — Ahsoka may have freed him, but she left him to rot. It was time that he returned the favor. Maul landed near the shoddy vessel with a light thud, forcing open the hull as he made his way into the cockpit. He was good enough of a pilot, as soon as he could get the ship running.

Maul slammed his palm against the center console, and fueled his rage into the Force, instead. With concentration and focus, the ship jolted to life, lights flickering on. He immediately set the coordinates, engaging into flight mode. He did not look back to see what was happening — only forwards. Thrusting the boosters on full blast, the ship twitched and became turbulent before finally speeding ahead.

He breathed a sigh of relief, settling into the chair. As soon as Maul was in the clear, he inserted the coordinates for Coruscant and engaged the hyperdrive. The Zabrak could not think clearly. He was terrified of losing her, losing his child. To him, there were two lives at-risk, his family — the family he’d sworn to protect and defend. He found his lightsaber during the chaos, and fortunately, it gave him more of a defense despite his talents with the Force.

Through hyperspace, it gave Maul a moment to think and to contemplate. A clearer mind meant that he could reach out to try and make sure that Amara was safe. Everything was blurry and distorted, voices muddled and forming together. He swiftly shook his head. It wouldn’t work — he would have to find her himself. Maul would rend and tear every inch of Coruscant apart if it meant finding her. He did not care who he had to kill to ensure Amara’s survival — he would do it a thousand times over.

The last he’d detected of her, she was in turmoil. It was enough to frighten him into hurrying, as fast as he possibly could. Maul no longer cared if he was detected. He used to prioritize stealth and deception, but not this time. He was more than willing to leap into the fold of danger and take his beloved somewhere safer. His crime syndicates were at his disposal, too. 

Coming into Coruscant’s atmosphere, he entered a concentrated state. Maul knew exactly where her apartment was, where the Senate building was located, the Jedi Temple. It was a matter of pinpointing her exact location that would prove to be difficult. He steered the commandeered vessel down into the planet, blazing past the clouds and into the starry night. Most ships were pulled toward the capital — and he could see it. The Jedi Temple was burning, and the capital was a complete mess of chaos. 

Once more, he tried to clear his mind and reach out to her. Location. Maul’s visage contorted and scrunched together in complete focus this time as he waded through the haze, through the mess and tangled voices. Through his visions. The Zabrak had ceased, as if time had become still. Where was she? Maul could see the carnage, the massacre — young Jedi, older Jedi. There were corpses all strewn across the Temple, clones still ransacking it all. He tried again, the Senate building. Darth Sidious was here …

There.

Maul gasped, able to see her so clearly. She was trapped in her apartment, with Clones in the hallways. He was frantic this time, kicking the vessel forward into swift, high speeds. He had practically memorized the way to her quarters, landing the ship on one of the lower landing pads. Her floor was just above him, but there were Clones swarming the building. Maul would do whatever it took to clear the path, to reach her. Whatever blood would be spilled, none of it would be his own. 

This time, Maul did not need to concentrate. Killing Clones would be too easy for him. He left the shuttle with haste, looking above him to see the pathway from another landing bay — the floor he needed. With a great leap, the Zabrak used the Force to propel himself, legs landing with a metallic thud against the ramp. Two Clone troopers glanced in his direction, and as soon as their blasters lifted, Maul was strangling them, tossing their bodies into the great below of Coruscant. 

“Pathetic.” The Dathomirian snarled, stalking toward the doors that led into the Senator apartments. He drew his lightsaber, ripping past the metal that barred the entryway, merely waving one hand to tear it all to shreds. He propelled them forward, crushing one clone in the process. It alerted the others on that floor, but Maul was more than prepared. 

“Blast him!” There were calls for action against Maul, but like the Clones upon the previous vessel, none of them stood even a slight chance against him. He spun his lightsaber with a graceful deadliness, and any blaster fire went hurtling back at the Clones. Some of them stuck, and others destroyed parts of the building. 

Lifting his hand, four Clones were lifted into the air, all clutching desperately for their throats. Maul smirked, a horrid, sinister expression before he began to slam them against the walls like ragdolls. He was merciless, ruthless — if any of them had hurt Amara, he would ensure that their suffering was immeasurable. The Zabrak scowled, and began to sprint toward the remaining forces, slashing violently at them with a lightsaber. Body parts went flying, as did the blood against the interior. 

“Fall back, fall back! Get to the ship!” He could’ve let them flee, run and scurry back to wherever they came from, but Maul was not feeling generous. All he saw was a crimson haze, fueled by anger, desperation. He stalked after them, sealing the doors shut with the Force. His hand clenched into a fist, watching the troopers try and turn to make their last stand. This time, Maul crushed them with a massive hunk of debris he’d torn from the wall. He threw it at the trapped clones, hearing all sorts of abhorrent crunching noises. 

Maul heard the sounds of death, though he did not linger. The hallways became eerily silent, filled with slain corpses of Clone troopers. Bodies were still, smoking, crushed, sliced apart … It looked as if a massacre had occurred, which held some merit to it. What once was loud, was now as silent as a tomb. Maul made sure to nudge some of the bodies that still looked to be alive, stepping over the mess he’d made to the doors of Amara’s chambers.

Once more, he crushed the doors, tearing them off with a wave of his hand. He flung them down to the sides, breaking into a sprint. “Amara?” Maul shouted, his hearts beating with immense dread when he didn’t hear her respond. Everything in her room looked ransacked, as if someone had been turning over everything. His throat began to grow thick at the sight of blood — this couldn’t be. Not his beloved … 

Maul fell to his knees, weakly grasping toward the parts of the carpet with blood. If this really was Amara’s, it meant that … No. He refused to believe it. None of this was real, she was alive, and he’d felt it before. The Dathomirian did not know what to do. He was paralyzed. Not even seeing a body made everything so much worse. Yellow irises honed in upon the stains, and he’d tried to give them a sniff. He stumbled toward her vanity, the mirror shattered. He scrambled to look through her clothing. Was there truly no sign?

The room appeared as if a struggle had occurred. Maul scanned every single corner and crevice, emerging onto the balcony … And that was when he noticed it. Part of it had been torn away by some laser, and curtains were ripped down. It was still making him worry so completely. Amara was pregnant with his son, and if anything had happened, he would never be able to forgive himself. If they were lost, so was he. Maul would rather not exist anymore than to have Amara absent from his life.

His head jerked back when he’d heard a noise coming from the refresher. Maul had never moved so quickly in his life before, shoving aside the silvery door. The panel was partially broken and sparking … Blood was trailing toward the back, along with broken glass, a large, serrated dagger, and a silken cloak. 

“Maul?” 

Amara’s sweet, timid voice. Music to his ears, complete and utter bliss. Maul broke the door off completely, throwing it behind him as he clamored through to find her. She was tucked away into the corner, a corpse on the ground in front of her. He was shocked — the assailant was dead. They were white-skinned, blue veins and their eyes were closed, crimson splattered across their vestments. Maul knew what they were the moment he’d gotten a closer look.

Sidious’s assassins. 

Her pretty seafoam eyes were wide, elated. Amara’s golden curls were heaped atop her head, done up so beautiful and elegant. The girl shuffled more into view, her nightgown stained with blood that, surprisingly, wasn’t all her own. She had a very ugly gash upon her left arm, a cut upon her cheek, and a shallow stab wound near her right shoulder. Everything else, however, was unharmed. 

“Starlight,” Maul breathed, and never before had he been so happy. He moved toward her, stepping over the corpse. He picked her up to relocate her out of that tiny room and into the safety of her chambers. Maul did not let go, hugging her so tightly against him. He felt her reciprocate, tiny hands clutching to him so tightly as if she were hanging on with every shred of her being. His hand cradled the back of her sweet little head, gloved fingers perusing through her golden locks. “You are safe.” He murmured.

Amara was crying, clinging to him and trembling from shock, fear — everything had hit her all at once. Soft whimpers turned into sobbing, and it only made Maul hold her closer, stroking her hair continuously. They both parted just enough, and Maul kissed her with such passion. It was joy and relief together, and he felt his head swim when she reciprocated his affections. She was wounded, which did not exactly ease his nerves or calm him down, but she was acting as if she were unscathed.

“You came,” She smiled, sniffling afterwards as he wiped her tears away with his gloved fingertips. “I was so worried about you. Last I heard, you were captured.” Amara held into his tunic, running her hands soothingly across his bare chest. He seemed extremely tense — she didn’t want him to worry anymore. “Oh, Maul.” She sighed, one hand slipping up to cradle his cheek. “I was so scared.” Amara frowned. 

The Dathomirian cradled her tightly, though the protrusion of her pregnant stomach did make things a little more difficult. Maul leaned into her embrace, yellow irises boring down upon her with an overpowering sense of protectiveness. He would not be leaving her side — not ever. “You are hurt, starlight.” He frowned, gaze narrowing in concern. His hand moved toward the gash upon her ivory cheek, which was still oozing blood. 

“I’m alright, I promise. It doesn’t hurt,” Amara’s voice lowered to a soft, tender octave as she reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It did hurt, but she didn’t want him to keep worrying over her, especially after what they’d both gone through. She felt Maul guide her hand until they both pressed against her belly, which made her blush. Amara smiled at Maul, who kept his large palm pressed against her stomach, tracing along as if he were soothing it. She slowly repositioned her hand to rest atop his, her soft thumb tracing over his gloved hand. 

“My son,” Maul crooned adoringly. Amara did not take him for the fatherly type whatsoever, but the Zabrak was quite excited about the prospect of having ‘a little heir’ or a ‘little prodigy’. She found this parental side to him to be incredibly attractive and endearing, and it almost made her cry when he so lovingly touched her stomach. With a rumble, Maul kissed her upon the forehead, and then her cheek. “Our son.” He murmured this time, far more solemn than the last.

Maul’s head snapped back when he heard commotion outside within the hallways. Squinting, the Zabrak looked back to Amara, yellow irises glinting with underlying worry and concern. He needed to get her out of here and to somewhere safe. Dathomir was his safest option. From there, he could lead the Crimson Dawn and keep himself, Amara, and their child secluded. His old homeworld had gone through plenty since the beginning of the Clone Wars, though Maul already had a place to go.

“Maul,” Amara’s sweet voice snapped him out of his daze and alert state. “What’s happened?” She whispered, concerned as to what occurred. Not only here, but everywhere — the Jedi Temple, the turning of the Clones, and rumors of The Chancellor turning the Republic into the Galactic Empire. She knew that he had answers. Maul knew many things before they even came to fruition. 

“I will explain everything once we are safe.” Maul murmured, peering toward the stab wound and ugly gashes she had. Some of her body was cut up from shards of glass, but nothing as grotesque as her other three wounds. “We are going to Dathomir.” He nodded, moving towards her vanity. Amara would need more than just a bloodied gown, and he wanted her to be comfortable. He was never entirely organized, though Maul made sure to grab whatever he could, whatever was unscathed and not damaged by the pillaging. 

Amara did not want to distract him, and moved to grab his cloak. He’d kept it here for her, and the girl draped it on over her bloodied and tattered gown. She was practically swimming in it, but it did keep her looking a little more presentable than before. Amara took the bag from Maul, which was already stuffed with whatever was salvageable. He guided her from her chambers, holding onto her little hand, which was grasping onto him rather tightly. 

She gasped when they entered the hallway. Her eyes went as wide as saucers when she finally saw the absolute carnage. Amara knew that it had to have been from Maul. Dismembered bodies of Clone troopers, some cut into two, some crushed, others with burning holes through their chests. Maul picked Amara up this time, not wanting her to have to walk across the mess he made. He felt a twinge of guilt that she had to see it all, but Maul did it all to protect her. 

Once they entered the elevator, Maul peered down at Amara, gently stroking hair away from her eyes. “I am sorry that you had to see that.” He frowned, gently placing her back onto solid ground. They still held hands, with the Zabrak hovering over her rather closely. “But it was necessary, for your safety. I could not let them live.”

The golden-haired girl flashed a smile, the pad of her thumb tracing soothingly across Maul’s knuckles. “Sometimes, we must do what we have to do in order to survive. I know that you face that constantly.” She was understanding and sympathetic. Amara had to kill someone herself, and now, she knew the exhilaration, the pure fear she felt when that assassin was coming after her. Amara understood what Maul felt, and why he killed in the way that he did. Maybe not with his level of brutality, but it was enough. 

“I would do anything for you, starlight.” Maul rumbled, his gaze narrowing in concern. “I would kill anyone to ensure your survival and your safety. That will always stand, even if you disapprove. I must keep you safe.” The Zabrak swore, feeling her hand squeeze his reassuringly. “You and our son.” He kept her tucked against his side, having taken the bag from her during their walk. 

As the doors opened, the second floor was quiet as ever. Just the sound of pouring rain outside of the apartments, instead. Their vessel was just ahead, awaiting their boarding. Maul was thankful that it was strong enough to endure for his sake. Without that ship, he hadn’t a clue of where he would be. He led her down the corridor, his other hand holding tightly to his lightsaber in case he had missed any troopers. Their exit was swift and quiet, with Maul pressing the panel upon the ship’s hull. 

Rain was falling from Coruscant’s dark skies, as if the planet were weeping. Maul felt somewhat unsettled, though the sooner they left, the better. Dathomir was far more unpleasant than Coruscant, but the Zabrak did have a very secretive home to return to. Not many knew about the hideout he’d constructed some time ago. It was unused, and would be the perfect place to lay low. There were droids, in case of any emergency. Given that Amara was with-child, they would be helpful when the time came.

By the time Maul arrived on-board, Amara was comfortably tucked away within the co-pilot’s chair, swaddled up within his cloak. He was thankful that she wasn’t afraid nor bothered by where they were going or what Maul had in-mind for them. The Zabrak lingered within the small doorway, ogling Amara with such undying affection. She was the only person he truly cared about, the only woman who had ever bewitched him, captured his heart. It gave him such a peace of mind, knowing that she was alright. 

Approaching the pilot’s seat, Maul sat down, not bothering with any buckles or straps. Instead, he fired up the ship, the central control console flaring to life. This was an older model of Republic-issued transport vessels, but it would serve its purpose. It would survive the trip to Dathomir, he knew. Making sure Amara was fastened in, carefully avoiding her stomach, he launched off of the landing bay. There were patrol ships, though Maul could easily evade those if any came too close.

“Dathomir is your home,” Amara spoke softly. She had never seen Maul’s homeland. Heard of it, absolutely — been to the planet? No. She knew of how harsh and unforgiving of an environment it could be, but Maul would not take her somewhere where he knew she’d be in danger. She seemed a bit hesitant. “Do you know what attacked me?” Amara noticed his hand tighten upon the handles that helped steer the ship. “You looked concerned.”

Maul knew. He had connected the dots, followed the clues when he’d searched for Amara. Everything was laid bare for him to see. “The being that attacked you was an underling of my former master, Darth Sidious.” The Zabrak hesitated. He and Amara would be elsewhere — she deserved to know the truth of all this. “You know him as Chancellor Palpatine.” He uttered.

Amara looked to be in disbelief, shuffling around within the leathery seat. She idly kneaded her hands into the sleeves of Maul’s cloak, still clad within the garment. “Palpatine is the Sith Lord,” She gently shook her head. “Is that why you had those dreams you told me about?” 

Maul nodded. “I … Had dreams, though as I’ve come to understand, they were visions, signs. No one would believe what I had to say.” He murmured, trailing off with a slight growl of agitation. “They all paid the price of their blindness.” He attempted to remain cordial whenever he was around Amara, but he spoke the truth. “Sidious must know of you, Amara. He would not have sent the assassin if he knew you … Weren’t carrying my child.” 

Sidious did not like rivals, and he did not like potential adversaries. By letting Maul and a child of the Sith slip through his fingers, there was now the potential for another threat to Sidious’s rule. He would send out hunters to search for them, Maul knew this. However, Maul was far more clever than many took him for. There was nothing more powerful than a man desperate to protect his family — something Sidious would never understand. 

Wrapping an arm across her belly, Amara held her stomach in both a protective and defensive manner. “He sent a poor assassin.” She murmured, curling into the Zabrak’s cloak yet again. The oversized garment was a large source of comfort for her. His smoky scent still lingered on the fabric, too. “It was terrifying, truthfully, and I feel a little guilty but I do not regret it.” She did not regret taking a life to spare herself and her child. 

Maul smirked at that. Oh, how he wished he could have witnessed his beloved’s first kill. The mere thought of Amara actually plunging a weapon into someone made him incredibly proud, if not a little too happy. He did love the sweet Amara, the soft, golden-haired dove. Though, her motherly instincts made her stronger. Maul favored that, greatly. 

“You’ve impressed me, starlight.” The Zabrak crooned, the vessel sailing up into Coruscant’s atmosphere and into the starry depths of space. He set the coordinates for his homeworld, specifically the location of what would be their new home. It would take a bit of time, given Dathomir’s distance, but it would give them time to recuperate. He set the vessel on autopilot for now, moving to stand up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Amara smiled, unbuckling herself from the seat as the vessel stabilized. Maul helped her up, nearly holding her as they walked hand-in-hand toward the ship’s hull. It wasn’t nearly as lavish as some of the transportation used by Senators and people of power, but there was a refresher, a very narrow and tiny medical bench, a small lounge, and two little rooms. It was all really only made for one person, but Maul would accommodate accordingly. He stepped into the refresher, metal legs clanking against the sleek cabinets. 

It would be a very tight squeeze, though he needed to look at her wounds, especially the stab. If the knife was poisonous, Maul needed to know immediately. He guided her to stand in front of him as he began to pry his cloak away from her, seeing the crimson caked around her left shoulder. She winced when he touched at the reddened flesh, though Maul removed his gloves soon afterwards. Dampening a cloth, he cleaned the blood off of her — face, arms, shoulders, wherever there were scarlet stains. 

For all of his rage, for all of his unbridled brutality, Maul was an excellent caretaker. He had mended his own wounds for such a long time — he could use such talents on others, now. He was very gentle with Amara, making sure not to cause her any discomfort as he patched her up. Being pregnant was already stressful enough, he knew this. Maul did not want to add onto anything. 

“It looks like I am the one in need of healing this time.” Amara mused, attempting to be lighthearted. She blushed when Maul pressed tender kisses along her jawline, reveling in the softness of her flesh. She felt better once she was clean, and after Maul applied antiseptics and a medical stim-pack, he wrapped her gashes and the stab in stark-white bandages and patches. The Zabrak sighed, gently stroking at her hair. He did not want her to be hurt like this again — it frightened him, even if Maul didn’t want to admit to it.

“You are everything to me, starlight.” Maul rumbled, affectionately caressing her skin and golden tresses. He wanted to touch her, satisfy the aching desire for the both of them, but he knew of her current limitations. He could be patient, couldn’t he? Maul wondered just how long he would be able to last. The Zabrak let her clean up, wash her hands and face before he brought her bag. 

Once she was out of that bloodied gown and into something fresh and soft, Maul made sure to drape her back within his cloak. She loved that, and he enjoyed the light it brought to her features. As they moved back out into the small lounge, he felt Amara’s arms press against his chest, fingers curling into his tunic. She tugged him down for a passionate kiss, blazing and searing. It even surprised Maul, whose arms moved to tangle around her body, pressing her against him.

Maul felt those soft palms trace over his bare chest, gliding underneath the fabric, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Amara was feeling a bit absent of physical contact, and the hungrier Maul’s kisses became, the more her arousal grew. What they could do would be limited by so many things, and Amara didn’t want to do anything drastic. With a satisfied rumble, the Zabrak drew away just enough to see her rosy, flushed visage. He ran his thumb across her lower lip. 

“I love you.” Amara whispered, brows furrowing together. She moved to rest her head against his chest, ear close enough to hear the beating of his twin hearts. It was the safest she’d ever felt. Maul would protect her without hesitation, and she knew this. It was a feeling of relief, more or less. Amara felt one of his hands cradle the back of her head, the other arm twined tightly around her waist and back. 

He sighed, nearly burying his face against her golden curls. Maul did not want to let her go. Amara was the light of his life, the reason for his existence — he simply couldn’t imagine life without her, now. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he moved away slightly, fingers stroking along her jaw and cheek, now. “As I love you,” Maul murmured, his beautiful baritone sounding far more enamored this time than it had before. 

She smiled, dazzling and happy as could be before pressing a swift kiss against his mouth. Amara decided to move back into the cockpit, but not before Maul tugged her back to reciprocate. “Oh!” She giggled, able to feel his smirk against her lips. “How thoughtful.” Amara mused.

With a grin, Maul released her, following her back into the cockpit. They were still in hyperspace, and until they emerged near Dathomir’s orbit, time was limitless. The Zabrak sank down into the pilot’s seat. If there was one thing worth noting, it was the comfort of the chairs on this vessel. Before Amara could sit down, he extended one hand toward her. “Come here,” His alluring tone was soft, perhaps even tender as he invited her closer. “Sit.”

Amara obeyed, stepping toward Maul with a faint blush upon her beautiful visage. Before she was fully situated, Maul tugged her against him, making sure that she was completely comfortable. He did not mind her sitting within his lap, letting his arm twine around her back, and the other draped near her stomach. The closeness was appreciated, even more so since he thought he’d lost her for a fraction of a moment. The Zabrak was rarely the cuddly or affectionate sort, but his guard came down with Amara. 

“Could I ask you something?” She spoke up, feeling the Dathomirian’s hand rub across her stomach. Amara knew that Maul loved questions, especially when they were more personal and intimate. Her fingers gently stroked at his chest, along the fringes of his tunic. He was warm to the touch, like the lick of an open flame. 

“Anything.” Maul answered simply, keeping his hand planted firmly against the swell of her belly. The other arm that had wrapped around her stayed put, though his hand caressed at her shoulder and golden, curly locks. He regarded her with a look of contentment and compassion, yellow eyes fixated upon her. 

“What do you want for our child?” Amara asked softly. It was a bit of a loaded question, a heavy question, but something that seemed to keep nagging away at her. She knew that Maul was the leader of the Crimson Dawn, but what if their son was force sensitive? Would Maul train him? It was good to ask him these things, though. He was very attentive, usually willing to heed her advice. 

There was contemplation that went into his answer. The Zabrak appeared thoughtful, solemn, his hand still caressing lovingly at her stomach. His expression contorted into one of vague tenderness before he finally offered his answer. “Everything that I did not have.” Maul murmured, bringing her just a little closer against his chest. Amara knew that Maul did not have a father growing up, and that Sidious was all that he knew. Cruel, manipulative, only interested in forming a weapon. She had loving parents, an easy life — Maul’s was the exact opposite.

Blood, rage, fear — clawing to cling to life. Maul knew every little crevice of the world’s harshness, and he knew that there was so much he did not have that led him on such a dangerous route to begin with. His words resonated with Amara, her visage softening as she brought one hand up to his face. Her thumb stroked at his sharp cheekbone and along his jaw, moving forward to press her lips against his own. “We’ll be just fine, Maul.” She reassured him with an affectionate smile. “I’ll protect you.” Amara was beaming, now.

Maul smirked at that, admiring just how sweet and compassionate his beloved was. He couldn’t imagine where he would be without her — an existence without Amara. “You will protect me?” It sounded so silly, but she did protect him in some ways — from himself, and from his recklessness, from his rage. The Zabrak reciprocated the kiss, nose pressing near her own, foreheads touching together. Well, somewhat. The horns made it difficult. “I do not doubt it, sweet one.” Rubbing at her stomach again, he felt a sharp and sudden kick.

“Oh!” Amara gasped, peering down towards Maul’s hand. The baby was usually active when she wasn’t with him — and she could see the pride seeping into the Zabrak’s features. He tried again, and there was yet another response, a futile kick. “Eager to meet his father,” She smiled, dimples forming at either corner of her mouth. She gently patted the top of Maul’s hand, though he grabbed it, letting it settle with his own. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against her stomach, which made Amara blush.

The ship finally emerged from hyperspace, pulled into the orbit of a massive planet. The surface was red and a dusky orange — this was Dathomir. Maul gently squeezed at her back, yellow eyes bright as could be. He picked her up, settling her onto solid ground before he too stood up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Directing her attention into the recesses of space, he kept her close.

“Welcome home, starlight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had so much fun writing this series that I’m gonna extend it for as long as humanly possible. I’m really thankful to people who are reading, commenting, dropping kudos, etc. It really gives me fuel to keep writing for y’all! Stay tuned for more Maulmara and maybe some new characters soon! :) Stay cool!


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